The Transmigrated Author

creakkkk!

The grand doors creaked open, revealing the final room, a chamber seemingly fit for royalty. Faded decoration clung to the cracked walls, depicting celestial bodies in an eternal dance: a radiant sun, a serene moon, and constellations winking in the twilight.

Dust motes swirled in the air, illuminated by shafts of sunlight piercing through stained-glass windows. However, as I gazed through them, I saw nothing but space and darkness. These windows were mere illusions of the reflecting sun.

I cautiously stepped into the room, my boots echoing on the marble floor. The air felt stiff, broken only by the rustling of tattered banners.

My gaze swept across the chamber, taking in the ornate columns, towering arches, and remnants of gilded furniture. Yet, something felt amiss. There was an emptiness, no boss, not a single creature in sight.

It was the center of the room that drew my attention. A massive circle etched into the floor dominated the space. Half depicted a blazing sun, the other a tranquil moon. In the very center, a curious symbol lay nestled between the two – an intricate design pulsing with unseen energy.

At the far end of the chamber, bathed in moonlight, stood a lone throne. Carved from obsidian, its surface etched with symbols that writhed and shifted in the dim light, the throne was empty.

A chill ran down my spine. Where was the boss? I had expected a grand entrance, a dramatic reveal. But this silence was unnerving.

As I approached the throne, my eyes were drawn to the prophecies etched into the tapestries. They spoke of a king, burdened with immense power he sought to conceal. They told of a sun and moon, celestial guardians tasked with protecting this power.

This place made the mana within me feel strange, as if something was tampering with my control over its flow.

I stepped onto the dais, my gaze fixed on the empty throne.

The room seemed to shift. Shadows deepened, the air grew colder, and the symbols on the throne pulsed with a brighter light.

"So, you seek the ancient power? The one that has eluded countless others throughout the ages?"

The chamber's silence shattered as a voice, deep and resonant, boomed through the air.

"...!"

Startled, I stumbled back, my hand instinctively reaching for my weapon.

I had encountered villains with manipulative voices before, their words designed to sow doubt and fear.

But this voice... it bypassed my authority as an author.

If this isn't dominance or a speech ability.

Then what is it?

"Ancient power?" My voice echoed, The dungeon, the prophecies, this voice... none of it aligned with the story I had envisioned.

"What makes this power so ancient?"

I asked the question this person.

This had to be a discarded plotline, a forgotten idea that somehow found its way into the story.

"Complete this final trial," the voice responded, a hint of amusement in its tone.

"and you shall discover the true nature of the power you seek."

As the last word faded, a surge of energy rippled through the chamber.

Fragments of light and shadow danced around the obsidian throne, coalescing into a swirling vortex of raw power.

My mind reeled as the pressure of this energy washed over me, heavier than anything I had ever experienced.

And the trial... it had only just begun.

FWANG!

The system's notification flashed before my eyes.

[A Legendary Opponent Is Being Manifested!]

[A Quest Is Being Formed...]

[Special Quest: The Trial of Fate]

[Description: Defeat the conqueror of the dungeon!]

[Rewards: Refresh In All Stats, +5 All Base Stats, +2 Special Ability Upgrade]

What?!

A legendary opponent? The conqueror?

Oh shit... that meant...

FWANG!

[The King of Dungeons Has Manifested!]

[The Great Opponent Has Been Summoned: Garrick Florentina]

In the flashback of Maledictus's memory, this appeared to be the same Garrick I had seen, yet different.

An almost spectral version, with darker features and mysterious dark energy flowing from his body.

At his hip was Jia, or Jiana to be precise, the weapon named after Valencia's mother.

This version, however, seemed slightly altered, like his appearance.

But ultimately, I was terrified. No words could capture the depth of my fear.

The mere thought of facing Garrick as an opponent made victory seem impossible.

He was the Great Hero, the Conqueror of Dungeons, the pinnacle of strength, the embodiment of what Jan would become in his prime.

Garrick was practically untouchable, the strongest person on Earth if he was still alive, even surpassing Aurelia.

My heart pounded as I gripped my sword.

This was a battle I couldn't lose.

Yet, the figure before me was a somewhat replica of the real Garrick, from his confident grin to the glint in his eyes.

This was a challenge unlike any I had ever faced.

***

[Standard Ability: Trickster At Arms [Grade 5] Has Been Activated!]

Garrick charged forward, a whirlwind of golden aura swirling around him.

Rel, paralyzed by the sheer force of the legendary hero's presence, watched as Garrick unleashed a mighty slash.

WAHAHA!

SLASSSSSH!

The ground trembled as a golden aura projectile ripped through the air, leaving ragged marks in its wake.

[The Following Skill Has Been Activated: Sensory Aura]

[Special Ability: Sixth Sense [Grade 6] Has Been Activated!]

Rel instinctively dodged the attack, but the golden light blinded him momentarily, obscuring Garrick's movements.

WHOOOSH!

In a flash, Garrick was before him, a massive grin plastered on his face, his sword raised high.

Rel's heart pounded in his chest.

[Special Ability: Clockwork of Time [Grade 3] Has Been Activated!]

Time slowed to a crawl, and the fatigue from his previous battles threatened to overwhelm him. But he refused to give up.

[The Following Skill Has Been Activated: Flow and Enhancement Aura]

Rel tightened his grip on his blade, channelling every ounce of his remaining strength into the weapon.

He knew this clash was more than just a fight; it was a greeting to the legendary Garrick Florentina.

"Shattered Judgement."

Rel drew his sword back, the black blade angled upwards, bursting with a dark aura.

[Special Ability: Clockwork of Time [Grade 3] Has Been Deactivated!]

Time resumed its normal flow, and Rel's body spun as his aura met Garrick's descending blade.

CLASH!!!!!

The shockwave of their collision shook the entire chamber, sending tremors through the stone walls and scattering dust and debris.

As their blades met, a spark of surprise ignited in Rel's eyes.

He realized, with a jolt, that their weapons weren't actually touching.

A hair's breadth of space separated them, yet the force of their clash resonated through the chamber.

Impossible, Rel thought, his mind racing to comprehend the phenomenon.

Garrick's smile widened, and with a sudden surge of aura, a series of explosions erupted around Rel.

The force of the blasts nearly knocked him off his feet, but he managed to maintain his balance, his eyes narrowing in determination.

The realization struck him like a thunderbolt: this version of Garrick was even more nerfed than he had initially thought.

There was no way a dungeon could perfectly replicate the legendary hero's full power. In a true clash, Rel would have been obliterated on impact.

This Garrick was a weaker, imperfect replica.

But even a weakened Garrick was stronger than him.

Rel knew he couldn't let his guard down for a moment, for even this imitation possessed devastating attacks that could easily end his life.

***

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